Alone in the Tower
by Goolia
Summary: Just a harmless peice of HarryRon fluff. Set in Gryffindor Tower, over Christmas Holidays.


**Alone in the Tower**

Author note: though this may cause a few of you to turn away and never look back, this is the first fic I have ever posted. (I've written a few, but theyare safely hidden away from the world in a secret blue binder under my bed.)I'm 100 open to feedback and criticism, as long as it isn't "I hate this story, quit writing," or anyhting of that sort.

This is just a cute little Harry/Ron pairing that is surprisingly void of major emotional spillovers or deep, passionate love. That was a shock to me, as usually those are the two things I look for in a fic. Anyways, I call this a 'subtle' peice. Read on, and please reveiw! (I feel like a cliché)

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Ron looked down at his black haired friend, who was lying on his stomach in front of the fire. His limbs were spread out at awkward angles and his head was turned towards the warm flames. Though he couldn't see the familiar face, Ron knew that his emerald eyes were probably closed. 

And what a shame that was, because they were such a pretty colour.

Ron stretched his lanky legs along the length of the couch, and propped his head up on his raised palm. Looking at the boy on the floor, he let out a little chuckle.

Harry turned his head, grinning as his nose brushed against the crimson carpet.

"What's so funny?" he asked the red haired boy lying up above him.

Ron sighed. "Harry, we are the ONLY Gryffindors staying here over the holidays. EVERY SINGLE chair is free, and yet you are lying sprawled out on the floor!"

It was Harry's turn to chuckle now. It was true, of course, but he had wanted to lie down.

"Well," he said with a bright smile, "I WANTED to lie on the couch, but SOMEBODY sat there first!"

"Yeah," Ron laughed. "Well, you know how it is, it IS the best seat in the house, and of course I - OMPH!"

Ron's words were cut short by the force of another body landing on top of him. All he could see for a moment were his own flailing limbs and a mop of messy black hair.

He landed with a 'thud' and opened his eyes. He was on the floor next to the couch, looking up at the other boy's face, who was peering at him from over the edge, and, of course, grinning madly.

"Not funny, Harry," Ron mumbled, rubbing the back of his head, though he couldn't stop laughing about his friend's giddy attitude. He twisted around and sat with his back leaning against the base of the couch, staring at the holey socks on his outstretched feet. "I think there's a bump already growing there, you git."

"Where?" Harry asked, plunging his fingers into Ron's mass of red hair. Ron suddenly pulled his hand away when Harry's fingers almost intertwined with his own.

"There," he whispered, cautiously moving Harry's hand with the bare tips of his fingers. Harry let out a noise of understanding as his fingers grazed the injury. Ron took his hand away and folded them both in his lap. To his surprise, Harry kept his hand on the little bump, moving it slowly through Ron's fiery locks.

"Sorry," Harry added as an afterthought.

"S'alright," replied Ron, who was rendered somewhat speechless while concentrating on the unusual sensation of the hand in his hair.

"It's strange that everyone left, isn't it?" Harry asked, after a few moments of silence.

"Hmm," asked Ron, being jerked back into consciousness at the sound of his friend's voice.

"If we had been gone too, there wouldn't be a single Gryffindor left here." Harry stated.

"Yeah, too bad we didn't go. Probably would have been some kind of record."

"I'm fine with staying here," Harry said, his tone turning slightly bitter. "It's not like I've got any other place to be."

Ron winced. He hated when Harry talked about not having a family, because it was one of those things that both was and wasn't true at the same time. Harry didn't have parents or brothers or sisters like he did, and the muggles he lived with shouldn't even be considered relatives. He had Ron's family, though, who had practically adopted him, and he had Lupin, who was basically the closest thing he would get to his actual parents (and Lupin knew it, and treated Harry as such), and he had Hermione, who was closer to him than any sister could have been.

And he had Ron, and every time Ron heard him say that he had nowhere to go, he just wanted to tell him that he didn't want to see Harry go _anywhere_.

"You know you would have come to the Burrow if Mum and Dad were there this Holiday." He said as Harry snorted. "Really, we would have all been with the Order like this summer, except they are all off doing some important work or whatever it is that they do."

"It doesn't matter," Harry said flatly. "I like being here, anyways. It's nice that Hermione went skiing and Ginny went with Dean to London." Ron tensed as he mentioned the youngest Weasley. Since the beginning of that summer, he couldn't see Dean the same way as he had for the first five years of school. "Calm down, Ron," Harry said, almost laughing at the redhead's reaction.

"But, yeah," he continued. "It's nice being here alone."

Ron's expression changed. So Harry wanted to be alone, and being left with Ron was as close to alone as he was going to get. He let out a sigh, muttering "So that's how it is."

"What?" Harry asked, sitting up a bit, but keeping his hand buried in Ron's hair.

"Nothing," Ron said quickly. "I'm glad that you get some 'alone' time."

"Yeah," Harry replied "I'm glad that we do, too."

"We?" Ron asked without thinking. He could instantly feel the blush creeping up his neck.

Harry shifted behind him and Ron felt the comfortable hand leave the back of his head. As he brought up his own to rub the empty feeling away, his friend shifted down and sat beside him. Harry sat closer than he normally would, Ron noticed.

"Yeah, well, these days the only times we get to spend time together, it's in a whole swarm of people. When school lets out, you go home, I go to the Dursley's, then we both go to Headquarters, which is always full of people, and then we come to school, where we live in this tower with dozens of other kids, and we're almost always hanging out with at least Hermione, if not Neville and Ginny and Dean and everyone…" Harry trailed off and Ron heard him let out a deep breath before continuing.

"It's just nice, when it's only you and me, you know?" Harry finished nervously, leaning his head down onto Ron's shoulder and sliding his hand around to the other side of his friend's arm. Ron felt the fingers snake down the inside of his burning hot forearm before finally lacing into his own. He had no idea what to say, so he didn't say anything at all.

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Sometime in the early hours of the morning, Ron awoke to find that their bodies had sunk down to the wooden floor. The two boys were laying together, fingers still intertwined, Ron holding a protective arm over his friend. It was the most comfortable he had ever felt.

Except for the wooden floor part, which was causing his hip and shoulder bones great distress.

"Harry? Hey, Harry. Wake up." Ron moved their hands in an effort to wake the black haired boy, who made a slight noise and started scrunching up his face in preparation to open his eyes.

"Shh, Harry, don't worry," Ron reassured him. "We fell asleep on the floor, we should really go to bed.

Harry made a noise of comprehension and relaxed entirely, letting his limbs fall to the ground. Ron smiled sleepily and took back his hand, running it through his hair (and over his bump) as he sat up. Upon doing so, he noticed how draining it was to be awake and decided to crawl over to the couch before mustering the energy to go all the way upstairs.

Once his head hit the soft material of the cushions, he let out a sigh and said, with a yawn, "Oh, never mind, I think this is as far as I can go.".

He heard a mumble that sounded like "good idea" as Harry started to sit up. He pulled himself onto the couch and lay atop Ron, snuggling into the space between his body and the couch's back.

Ron smiled and took Harry's hand in his, resting them both on his chest.. "G'night Ron," Harry said, kissing the closest part of Ron's face, which happened to be somewhere along his jaw.

Ron smiled. "Goodnight, Harry," he said, kissing the spot where Harry's forehead started melting into his jet black hair. Ron looked down at his friend's closed eyes, and for once, did not feel sad that he couldn't see their brilliant green shade.

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Alright, that's all for now. Please document your dissapointment and nit-picking for future reference in thr reviews. (If you have something positive to say, though, I suppose that might be acceptable...)

Note: I did consider posting additional chapters, and developing this into somehting of a story. If you could leave me your thoughts on that, it would be greatly appreciated!


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